Formalities
by LeonaWriter
Summary: Formal occasions were an unknown factor when you were - emphasis on the past tense - a leader in the criminal underworld for some time, a fact that tended to mean you didn't know all that many people in the circles you now had to move in. May is willing to help with that.


The world was new, and he was walking familiar paths, and yet he felt as though he had no idea where they led.

That was what it was like, being here, among all of these people, just a scant two months after the fiasco with the meteorite and Deoxys, and three months after he had almost caused the destruction of the Hoenn region, if not the world, by the raising of Groudon from its slumber.

Maxie adjusted his glasses, keystone back in place as it had been ever since May had given it back to him when returning the stolen property that Zinnia had taken. Which was another thing – knowing that she could have kept it, or handed it in to the authorities, yet hadn't.

It was one of the things that had endeared the girl to him, along with how generally forgiving she was, and how much she advocated second chances.

Yet May was not, however, currently here. In a room full of people who were all too willing to give him side glances and talk about him and his organisation behind his back, wondering if Team Magma's reformation was going to stick.

It was easier to count the number of people he'd wronged in this room than those he had not. And then there were the odd variables such as the Devon Corporation, where it could go either way – yet Steven was off on his own travels, meaning that he was absent as well.

No, in many ways it was far easier to stand by the punch bowl and watch as the rest of the partygoers interacted.

Many greeted each other as old friends. Others exchanged recent scientific findings, whether they studied astrology or energy resources of various kinds, or electricity or new Pokémon discoveries. Maxie raised his half-drunk glass of red wine and wished he could be back home – in the Magma base, where he could be working on his _own_ new projects, or sharing findings with Tabitha.

_Well. We can't always get what we want,_ he thought to himself. And it was evident enough from recent events that… perhaps it was for the best, that, though.

He frowned slightly, just as Wattson let out another loud laugh. Wondering how many more of these formal occasions he'd have to attend, and if this was to be the price for turning a criminal organisation into one that operated legally and was well respected.

In other words, a long, hard slog. Just like this so-called 'party'.

Only another four hours. Three and a half, to be precise. He'd been here nearly half an hour already. He could be patient for that long. He'd waited years to create the technology and to be able to research fully into finding out how to awaken Groudon – he could do this too.

"You know, everyone else is at least _trying_ to get to know new people, telling bad jokes, laughing at 'em… you could at least make an attempt rather than standing back here like a wallflower with a raincloud over its head, Maxie."

Not expecting to have anyone talk to him, least of all that voice, there was a worrying moment when he almost found himself snorting expensive wine on an – assumedly also expensive – carpet. He recovered himself and his composure rapidly, before anyone else could notice.

"May. I have to admit, it's a surprise to see you here. I'd thought you were unable to attend."

The girl – young woman, he reminded himself, she was older than she looked – shrugged. She'd made an effort to dress for the occasion, even if it wasn't to the extent that some of the invitees had gone too. The effect of her red halter neck top and jeans and the fact that her hair was, for once, down, was spoiled somewhat by the still-present belt and bag, pokeballs attached. Not to mention the traces of what was clearly dust and dirt from the vicinity of Lavaridge, which was several miles away at least.

He wondered if she'd dressed that way on purpose. Part of him wanted to think so, while the other part was convinced that even just the solidarity of Those Dressed In Red was quite enough.

"I got caught up in a fight. I don't think they recognised me like this. I don't exactly look like I do on the BuzzNav," she said dryly.

He smiled. "I must say, you clean do up nicely."

"Is it because I'm in red, or because I'm not dressed to surf?" He blinked, and she laughed, waving her hand as if to say it wasn't important before catching hold of his arm. "Come on. I know about… half of the people here. I bet we can leave here knowing the rest of them!"

"Ah- I don't- _May…!"_

He still had his glass in hand as he was half dragged, half frogmarched off to talk with the first person she'd picked out.

There were pros and cons to being on the good side of the Hoenn League Champion – friends, even, he'd like to say – and although things initially started off awkwardly to say the least, he could safely say that he was pleased that she had been able to come.

The fact that she'd still ended up getting into a battle that caused her to be late ended up becoming a running joke, to the point where, at the end of the evening, he offered to see her back, to ensure she wasn't 'accosted' again.

She'd laughed, smiling.

"Maybe next time."

…

AN: I'd had this idea originally with Brendan - since that was the one I played as originally - but then seeing teammaxie's fics made me want to write more things with May in them, so here you go.

Could be taken as either early shipping fluff or really good friends, in this one.


End file.
